


Less Than Dust

by the_rck



Series: House of Sulfur and Mercury [3]
Category: Chronicles of Amber - Roger Zelazny
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Captivity, M/M, References to Torture, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 16:28:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8292397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_rck/pseuds/the_rck
Summary: Luke would rather not deal with Martin, but it's not as if he has any choice.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from a Dorothy Parker poem, "Song for the First of the Month."
> 
> I had intended more Merlin POV for the second story in this series, but this happened instead. Merlin will have his say later on.
> 
> The series this is part of contains branching AUs. An explanation of the splits can be found [here](http://somethingdarker.dreamwidth.org/36076.html).

I was in one of my other rooms, working on a jigsaw puzzle, and had fallen into that meditative zone where nothing beyond the puzzle was real. I jumped a bit when Ghostwheel sounded the bell that he used to let me know I needed to go into the bedroom. Merlin only asked for that when he planned to fuck me. If he just wanted to talk, he’d come and find me.

I took two seconds to steady myself and then headed for the bedroom. I tried very hard to empty my mind of all thought of what might be coming.

Seeing Martin instead of Merlin made me freeze in the doorway. I inhaled sharply and dropped to my knees. I had no idea if he’d like that, but I was pretty sure he wouldn’t object.

“Merlin’s not watching.” The words were soft enough that I almost couldn’t hear them. “Merlin’s not listening, either.” Martin didn’t move toward me. He smiled. “He told me I can visit you whenever I want.”

I swallowed hard. I’d expected that, but I’d also hoped I was wrong. I bowed my head.

Martin snapped his fingers and indicated a spot on the floor near his feet.

I crawled over and knelt there. I ran over what I knew about him in my mind and found no comfort in it. I was pretty sure that the beating had been more about pushing me to the point where I couldn’t think clearly enough to lie to him than about his pleasure. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed it. I was very sure he had. I was pretty sure that he’d enjoyed the part where he coaxed words out of me, too.

When I’d recovered enough to really understand what had happened, I had realized that he loved Merlin. That terrified me beyond the possibility that Martin might visit again. I was a little less worried about it now that I’d… spent time with them together. Martin didn’t see me as a rival or an obstacle. He barely saw me at all.

Except now I had his full attention.

“If I tell you to lick my boots, what will you do?” He sounded amused.

I hoped amused was better than-- Than whatever else I might have gotten. I bent and started licking his left boot.

He laughed and stepped back.

I made no move to follow, just waited to see what he would do next.

He moved to one of the chairs and sat. He looked me up and down. “Stand and strip.” When I had, he gestured for me to turn.

I turned a full circle very slowly, letting him see whatever he wanted to see. When I was facing him again, he held up a hand, and I stopped turning.

“The bruises we left are almost gone.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say in response, so I didn’t. If he’d been Merlin, I’d have known. I had to work at keeping my hands and shoulders relaxed because I had no idea at all what he was going to do.

He smiled. “I’m not going away, Luke. You’re going to have to deal with me.”

I met his eyes. I worked my jaw for a second before I could make myself speak. “The prisoner doesn’t get choices,” I told him. I looked away. I shouldn’t have because his expression would have told me a lot. I just couldn’t look at him.

“Yeah.” 

I heard him stand and knew he was coming close. When I was within his reach, he took hold of my chin and made me look at him. I was a bit surprised that he looked at me like I was a puzzle to be solved.

He rubbed my cheek with his thumb. “I suppose it’s just as well. I don’t see your father in you.”

I flinched from the words, but he didn’t loosen his grip. Instead, he leaned in and kissed me. I yielded as much as I could. Merlin would have wanted me to kiss back. I had no idea what Martin wanted.

When he finally pulled back, he ran his thumb over my lips. “You’ll really let me do anything at all, won’t you?”

I didn’t think that actually needed an answer, so I stayed silent. Part of me hoped he'd do whatever he was going to do quickly, and part of me wanted to put that off as long as possible.

“Who are you?” He studied me. “Why does Merlin want you so badly?”

I closed my eyes. “I--” I shuddered. “I usually try not to remember.” I'd never told Merlin that, but I kind of thought Martin already knew.

“Do you love him?”

I stared at him. That was like asking if I loved gravity or electricity or… Merlin was a fundamental fact of the universe.

He must have seen something in my face because he nodded. “I didn’t think it would be simple.” He released my chin and stepped back. “And me? How do you feel about me?” He gave a small laugh. “I suspect that one is easy.”

I shook my head because it wasn’t easy. Martin, to me, was a massive natural disaster-- unavoidable and destructive and changing everything. I was terrified of what he’d do if I said that. I was also terrified that, if I lied, he’d know and punish me. Could he send me to the maze? I started to tremble, and I shook my head again. I wanted to beg him not to hurt me, but I didn’t know how he’d react to that.

Not sure what else to do, I dropped to my knees and pressed my forehead to the carpet. I wished desperately that I knew more about him. Knowing what was coming would have helped because my imagination came up with more horrors when I didn’t know, and right then I had almost nothing to go on.

“You poor bastard.” Martin knelt beside me and started rubbing my back. I suppose he must have noticed that Merlin did that when trying to soothe me. “I’m not going to punish you for what you say. I’m not going to punish you for your parents or even for killing Caine.”

Which left what I’d done to Merlin and simple enjoyment of my pain.

I tried to still my trembling and to steady my breathing. I still didn’t know what Martin wanted. “Please,” I said, “just tell me what to do.” My voice shook.

“I just want to talk.”

That was bullshit, and I didn’t believe he thought I’d buy it. I decided to test his promise not to punish me for what I said. “Right. That’s why you had me strip.” I made the words as flat and dry as I could manage.

He laughed softly. “A valid point.” He put a hand on my head. “I want you.” His voice was hard. “Not the way Merlin does, but I do. And not even because I don’t get Merlin without you. You’re here, and I can… do whatever.”

And anyone at all would do. I closed my eyes. “I can’t stop you.” I wondered how much it would hurt.

“I don’t know if it would appeal as much if you could.” His hands moved over my body. He wasn’t doing anything but touching me gently. We both knew he could, so I guess he didn’t feel like he had to prove it. After a while, he gripped my hair and pulled until I was kneeling upright. “I want to see your face.”

I turned to face him. I thought his expression was mostly curiosity.

He ran his hands over my chest. “Would you really prefer death?”

If I had, I’d have found a way, something Ghostwheel wouldn’t spot in time to stop me. I looked at the floor and shrugged. “Only sometimes.” I bit my lip then added, “Sometimes, Merlin acts like… Like things were never bad between us. Then I could almost forget. Except for the part about no door.” My hands clenched. “And now, mostly, when he knows what he wants, I can figure it out and give it to him.”

Of course, a lot of times, Merlin didn’t know, and those times could get very dark for me indeed as he searched for an amount of my agony, of my screams, that would serve.

I took a deep breath to steady myself and said, “I have no fucking clue what you want.” I didn’t even know what to call him.

“I actually do want to talk. Other things, too, but definitely talking.”

Talking sounded harmless. Except… “Last time you wanted me to talk, it hurt a hell of a lot.” I wanted to curl up to protect myself, but I was damned certain Martin didn’t want that. I made myself meet his eyes. “I still can’t stop you.” I bowed my head and waited for him to hit me.

No blow came.

After several seconds, he said, “I didn’t want you thinking then.” He laid a hand along one side of my face. “Today, I want analysis. I think you understand Merlin better than anyone else right now.” His hand moved down my neck to my chest. “Merlin says you’re clever with people.”

“I don’t think I’d be here now if I was that clever.” I’d apparently never understood Merlin. I covered my face with my hands and hoped that Martin wouldn’t object. “If I’d told him who I was and asked for help, he would have, wouldn’t he?”

Martin sighed. “Very likely.” He tugged my hands down. I was surprised to see him looking just a bit sympathetic. “I don’t know what would have happened when it came to choosing you or me. You might have won.”

I started crying in huge shuddering sobs. I’d never have let myself cry that way in front of Merlin, not just for words spoken, but right then, I couldn’t stop. “I fucked up. I fucked up.” I started rocking, and Martin put his arms around me, pulling me close.

He let me cry myself out then sent me into the bathroom to wash. When I came out, he was sitting on the bed. He beckoned me toward him.

I hesitated when I reached the bed then, greatly daring, sat next to him.

He pulled me in close again and kissed me. He was still being gentle, so I relaxed against him. I didn’t quite dare kiss back, not until he gave me an indication that he would welcome it. Eventually, he pulled back. “Does Merlin know how broken you are?”

I shook my head. “He doesn’t want me to be, so I… try very hard. He… Ghostwheel brings people in, to clean and to do things like shave me. I see a doctor every so often.” The shaving and Sibyl’s visits were my main indicators of time passing because I was pretty sure those came at regular intervals. “If Merlin thinks I’m… If I sleep too much. If I sit and do nothing too much. If I don’t eat enough. When that happens, the guy who shaves me stays to play games. He was shit at them, at first, obviously only just learned. Or the woman who does my laundry gives me lessons in playing some damned musical instrument or another.”

I was pretty sure that that meant that Merlin knew that more time with him wouldn’t help. I wondered if Martin would understand that or if I’d have to say it.

“I have a lot of ways to… pass time when I’m alone. Books, music, and movies from several Shadows. Crafts that don’t involve anything sharp.” I forced a laugh. “I can crochet you a blanket if you want.” Mostly, I made things and then unraveled them to start again, but I’d given things to the servants after I asked Merlin, on one of the good days, if it would be all right. “I’m a terrible painter and a worse potter.”

I pulled my legs up to my chest and leaned my head on my knees. I really hoped that Martin wouldn’t touch me right then. “All of that-- That’s how I know that I matter, that I’m not… an interchangeable victim.” I couldn’t look at Martin. “It’s how I know that he’s never letting me go.” I didn’t hide the pain in that.

“If he tried, I’d probably kill you.” Martin’s tone was utterly matter of fact. “I’m pretty sure that, given enough time, you’d put yourself together and come after us. You’ve killed family once without getting caught.”

I laughed. It was a harsh, wrenching sound. “I don’t think even Merlin would let me go without Ghostwheel-- or someone like him-- watching every damned thing I did. Merlin may not be great with people-- He’s learning, but it doesn’t come naturally-- but everything he builds works. He may take a while figuring out the details, but it all fucking works.”

Neither of us said anything for a while.

“You’ll do it quick?” I asked eventually. That had been a fear for as long as Merlin had held me-- that he’d get bored and drop me in the maze to die. Starving would take a very long time. “I-- Dying wouldn’t be so terrible if it was quick.”

Martin stroked my hair. “Merlin’s not going to let you go. He’s also not going to kill you. I don’t entirely understand what you two have going here, but I can see that much.” He sighed. “I don’t think he hates you any more. Not that that does you any good.”

I wondered about Martin. He seemed to think he could talk to me and fuck me and spend time with Merlin who had said he loved me, all while staying detached. He might love me. He might loathe me. I just didn’t think he could feel nothing at all. That was what he wanted, what he intended, and it worried me that he even thought it was possible.

I suspected that, when he realized it wasn’t, he’d punish me for it. That was what I was there for.

I coughed and cleared my throat. “Is there more you want to know?”

He didn’t answer for a while. When he did, he sounded almost hesitant. “Tell me about the maze.”

I shuddered. I tried not to think about that hellhole, but it was a fairly constant presence in my mind. Even if Merlin never sent me back, I would fear it for the rest of my life. I inhaled slowly and tried to steady myself.

Martin started rubbing my back again.

“It’s completely dark,” I said. I was surprised that my voice was steady. “Well, unless he’s feeling particularly cruel. If he is, there are flashes of blinding light-- stunning light-- at random intervals. It’s cold, by no means killing cold, but I never have clothes, and there isn’t any shelter. It rains, off and on, never less than a mist and never a downpour. Every surface I can reach stays wet and slimy, but there’s no water to drink but what pools on the floor. I only find those by stepping in them. I have no idea how filthy those are. It’s not like I have any choice about pissing and shitting on the floor, and there are always rats. Once or twice, snakes instead.” I hesitated. “On the whole, I prefer the snakes. They’re easier to eat.” I bit my lip as I wondered if Martin would understand how it all added up. “Usually, there’s a lot of noise. That’s meant to keep me from sleeping, and it works. It also--” I pressed my lips together and wondered if Martin really needed to know.

“Tell me.” He didn’t stop rubbing my back.

“Merlin-- He can see in the dark.” Would that be enough for Martin?

“Yes?”

Apparently not. “The noise means I never hear him coming. He likes being particularly brutal there. He-- He told me I can fight then, but I don’t. I’m not stupid.” I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself. “And, you know, I kind of hope he’ll come. That little bit of time is all the warmth I get while I’m there.”

I shuddered repeatedly and clung to the knowledge that I wasn’t in the maze, that Merlin had said he might not send me there again. ‘Might not’ was a very slender hope.

Martin exhaled heavily. He pulled me in close. “It’s warm here.”

The contact helped. I knew he didn’t actually care, but it helped. I hoped desperately that he wouldn’t push for more. Not yet. Maybe I could persuade him to fuck me. That would hurt less.

I turned my head so that my face pressed into his shoulder, but that blocked the light. I relied on that to remind me of where I was. I lifted my head to stare at the light on the ceiling. If I looked at it long enough, maybe my feet would stop itching, and I'd stop tasting rat.

Martin kept his arms around me. “You're not there now.”

I think he had to realize that, if he asked it, Ghostwheel would take me there. “Would it amuse you to see me there?” I didn't want to know. I had to know. “Please don't. Please. I'll do anything.”

“I know,” Martin said. “If-- when-- I hurt you, I'll be touching you. I won't do it that way.”

I knew he had no need to keep promises made to me, but it meant something that he'd bother to say it. “What do you want now?”

He inhaled deeply then exhaled slowly. “I want to know everything you know-- or guess-- about Merlin, but… I think you’re done for a while, at least for anything that requires digging.”

I hadn’t expected that much consideration. ‘A while’ was vaguer than I’d hoped for, but any sort of respite was to be treasured.

He didn’t look at me. “I’m not bothered over the right and wrong of what Merlin and I have done to you.”

I hadn’t thought he was. As far as I could tell, nobody was bothered by it at all. Except me, and that was kind of the point.

“I’m intrigued by the… possibilities, but you’re--” He shook his head. “I kind of want resistance, and you can’t do that, not any more.”

“I’m sorry.” I wasn’t stupid enough to think that meant he wasn’t interested in fucking me. It just meant that he was probably going to take Merlin up on his offer to kidnap someone else. I wondered who the poor bastard would be. Would Martin want someone he knew or would anyone do? Would I ever meet that person?

“Don’t be sorry,” Martin told me. “It’s not a fault in you.”

“Merlin--” I hesitated. “He didn’t want that.” That was the point of the maze. I’d figured that out very quickly.

“Yeah, well, we both know I’m not Merlin.”

I knew, and Martin scared me in a completely different way than Merlin did. I thought about offering to try, but he was right-- I almost certainly couldn’t fight him. The thought of what Merlin would do if I landed a single blow or left a single bruise would paralyze me. “So what does that mean for me? Right now, I mean.”

He pulled back a little and touched my face. “I don’t need to be cruel just now. Or--” He frowned and paused for a few seconds. “Is there anything but that for you?”

I couldn’t quite parse the question. “There’s whatever Merlin wants,” I told him. “And now, whatever you want.”

He gave me a look that surprised me. He actually looked a little sad. “What were you like before?” He didn’t sound like he expected an answer, so I didn’t say anything. “He says he’s gentle sometimes.”

He was, so I nodded. Those times were actually harder because I had to pretend I wasn’t afraid and was eager for his touch-- playing love games with a man who could hurt me horribly at any moment and who had recently and certainly would again in the not too distant future. I wondered if that pretense would be easier with Martin or if Martin would even want it. I thought that was where he was going. Merlin never quite realized that I was lying because he didn’t want to know. Martin, though… Martin had no investment in me that way.

I cleared my throat. “If that’s what you want-- Well, you know that.” I looked away. I didn’t think I needed to tell him that, if he was gentle, it would be easier for me, during and after. I also didn’t think there was a chance in hell that he was going to leave without fucking me.

“You prefer that.”

It wasn’t a question, so I just shrugged. I would prefer to sit on that beach that Merlin had let me visit so very briefly. I could sit and watch the water until the world swallowed me. If Merlin let me go and Martin didn’t kill me, I would probably die that way. I’d just find a pleasant place to sit and never move again.

I couldn’t safely think about that. If I wanted it too badly, Merlin would notice and be angry.

I wanted to beg Martin to just do whatever he was going to, but I still wasn’t sure how he’d react to begging.

Martin exhaled audibly, sounding as if he’d made a decision. “Lie down then.” When I hesitated, he added, “Face down is fine if you’d rather pretend I’m someone else.”

I nodded. I lay, face down, with a pillow under my hips. He hadn’t said that, but I thought it would be easier for him. I didn’t try to watch him as he undressed. I could hear him, and that was enough. When he started rummaging in drawers, I said, “He doesn’t keep that here. He summons it when he wants.”

Martin muttered something that sounded annoyed. Then he said, “Ghostwheel, if you please?”

Ghostwheel must have provided because, when he started touching my ass, Martin used lube.

I set my teeth against the urge to tell him to get on with it. I wouldn’t have dared say that to Merlin, and I was pretty sure it would be a mistake with Martin, too.

Martin didn’t say anything. Merlin, even when he was being kind, liked to talk about what he was planning to do, about what he could do if he wanted, about what I should be grateful he wasn’t doing this time, so the silence was a little unnerving.

I tried to relax as he stuck his fingers into my ass. If he’d been Merlin, I probably could have done-- I’d had enough practice-- but I couldn’t let go of the awareness that this wasn’t Merlin. I buried my face in my arms and waited.

He was gentle. I’ll give him that. He also fucked me twice, with almost no respite, while I tried to think if there was anybody I actually would want in his place. That led to places I didn’t want to go, memories that were good ones and so hurt more. I started to cry, thinking about Gail, my college girlfriend. I’d left her without a backward glance because… other things… were more important, and I don’t think I actually loved her, but she seemed to love me. I’d have given anything to have her hold me again.

I tried to cry quietly, but by the time Martin finished, I was shaking.

He walked away, by the sound of it, to the bathroom to wash. When he came back, he said, “Do you always cry?”

I was afraid he’d ask why if I told him I didn’t, so I said, “Merlin likes it.” My voice was thick, and I tried to clear my throat. “Sometimes--” More often, I think, than Merlin realized. “--he likes to hold me and comfort me.” And sometimes, he liked to see if he could change tears to screams. Less often now than at the beginning, but he liked it a lot and might or might not hold me after. If Martin asked, I’d tell him that, but I really hoped he wouldn’t ask.

Martin let me get dressed and eat after that. He even let me sit at the table with him. He didn’t talk to me any more which I hoped was meant as a kindness, but he may have realized that it made me nervous. Most likely, though, it was simply that he didn’t think enough of me to bother talking.

When I had finished eating, I studied Martin’s face for a moment then lowered my eyes to the table. The fact that he hadn’t left meant that he still wanted something from me. I wasn’t eager to find out what.

“Luke.” Martin tapped on the table as if saying my name might not be enough to draw my attention, as if he hadn’t already had my full attention.

I looked at him. I kept my expression carefully neutral.

“When did you realize that Merlin loves you?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. It didn’t matter.” The next words carried more bitterness than I’d meant to allow. “It’s not as if he treated me better because of it.” I looked away. “He doesn’t want to, you know. He does, but he doesn’t want to.” Some of the worst torture I’d endured had come when Merlin was trying to prove to himself that he didn’t give a damn about me. “I’m not sure what him saying it means. He never admitted it before.” And, after Martin had left, Merlin had given me the best few hours I’d had since he kidnapped me. I hadn’t expected that. 

I didn’t want to hope for more.

Martin nodded. “I think that, if Merlin heals, things will be better for you. That’s not the point, but I expect it would be a… beneficial outcome from your point of view.”

My mouth felt dry. I swallowed and tried to find some moisture. “If that’s what happens.” I tried not to let my fear into my voice, but I’m pretty sure I failed.

“He will still want you alive.” Martin offered me a very thin smile. “I just think he might hurt you less.” His smile vanished. “He does, doesn’t he?” It was a question, but Martin didn’t sound like he needed an answer.

I couldn’t speak for a moment, so I just shrugged. “Do you want a catalog?” I said at last.

He hesitated, and I realized that he was a bit afraid of what he might hear.

Suddenly, I wanted very badly to tell him. I suspected that it would hurt him, and there really weren’t many ways I could hurt anyone without ending up in the maze again. In this case, I was certain Martin wouldn’t tell Merlin because then he’d have to reveal the things he’d talked with me about. Martin was on dangerous ground with this visit anyway and had been from the moment he started asking questions. Merlin would be hurt and angry if he knew Martin had done anything but play with me.

For once, I didn’t think Merlin would take it out on me. I might be wrong, but I supposed it wouldn’t hurt any worse than what he was likely to do anyway. He wouldn’t send me to the maze for obedience.

I took a deep breath and started to talk.


End file.
